


In Theory

by prozacplease



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Drug Use, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Sneezing, Sweatpant Boners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prozacplease/pseuds/prozacplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean gets sick during the week at the mansion. Alex is there to help. Written for a friend on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Theory

Sean could feel the vibration of the old, warped greenhouse glass from where he stood about ten feet away. Sitting there in its rusty framework, the glass was telling him all sorts of information that his brain could use. There was no other way to explain it. But with Charles, he didn’t need to. Charles understood completely. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Charles said, speaking a little louder than normal with the orange earmuffs protecting him. 

Sean took in a deep breath and let out a short, sharp squawk. It wasn’t loud to him, but in his peripheral vision he saw both Charles and Moira jump. The glass shattered into pieces so small they looked like glitter in the grass. 

Charles yanked off his earmuffs and clapped a hand on Sean’s shoulder, telling him how extraordinary he was. Extraordinary. Sean never thought he was anything of the sort. Sure, he was different, but certainly not in a good way. Charles believed differently, however. And that meant the world to him. 

When Charles and Moira had to leave and go work with someone else, Sean headed back to the mansion. He was free to do whatever he wanted until they all met up to make dinner together. They had all become quite the little family these past few days, and Sean wished it would last. 

He walked into the huge foyer just as Alex was walking by. 

“Hey, freckles.” 

Sean looked up and saw Alex standing there in mid-stride, dressed in the same ridiculous sweatsuit as he was.

“Fuck off,” Sean said, although there was no bite to his words. 

Alex’s mouth split into a crooked grin. “Heard you screeching. Christ.” 

“I can do it again, if you want,” Sean said. 

He glanced around at the vaults in the high ceiling, judging the pitch of the noise he’d have to make to get the windows to blow out or make Alex’s ears bleed. 

“I’m good,” Alex said, sounding disinterested. “Want to go smoke some weed? I’m done for the day.” 

Sean nodded. That did sound good. He was pretty keyed up from having to perform for Charles and Moira, despite their praise. He’d just never done anything like it and was stressed out by being the center of attention, even for a little while. 

He followed Alex up the stairs and they went to his room, where they sat on the wide railing of the stone balcony. Alex’s room was on a side of the mansion that faced a thicket and allowed them some privacy. 

“You roll,” Alex said, giving Sean his supplies. “You do it better.” 

They passed a few joints back and forth, and while Sean didn’t feel particularly blazed, he could feel himself relaxing. Unraveling a little. But in a good way. The transition from them talking about that new Bob Dylan record to touching each other all seemed so fluid. Like it was the natural order of things. 

Of course Alex saying he wasn’t a big fan of folk music would lead to his hand on Sean’s thigh, right? Neither of them fought it, but they did have the sense to slip off the balcony and back into Alex’s room. 

Sean sat on the edge of Alex’s bed, legs slightly spread. Alex came over and pushed Sean’s thighs further apart before laying on top of him. Sean laughed, although nothing was particularly funny as Alex started to dry hump him. There was no romance in what they were doing, just rubbing their sexually confused boners together through their sweatpants. 

This was probably the third time they had done this—smoking pot and then humping each other. Sean knew he wasn’t doing it just because he was high and that made him nervous. He wondered what Alex’s motivations were, but he didn’t feel like he could ask. Alex didn’t talk about feelings. 

Sean always wished Alex would just pull off his sweatpants and fuck him right there. Many times he’d jacked off while imagining Alex slapping his hips against him—until his own skim milk colored thighs were tinged pink. But it never happened.

Alex was busy bumping their shafts together, hands planted on either side of Sean’s head. Sean closed his eyes briefly and moaned. 

Alex chuckled. “You always get so red.” 

Talking about his blushing only made it worse. Sean couldn’t help it. His fair complexion didn’t hide the rush of blood very well. By the end, his chest would be flushed too. 

Sean put his hands on Alex’s shoulders before sliding them up his neck and settling on the sides of face. He was panting a little now. Alex didn’t resist when Sean pulled him down into a kiss. Alex pulled away sooner than Sean wanted, but only to announce that he was coming. 

Sean, who had been edging for a few seconds anyway, gasped sharply as his back arched. He jerked his hips against Alex in time with the muscle contractions that had him trapped in those few moments of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Alex said as he flopped down next to Sean, breathing hard.

Sean laid there, eyes closed. He made a small noise in response. 

“We should actually go all the way sometime,” Alex said into the sheets. “If you want.”

“I’d be down,” Sean said. 

You have no idea how down, he thought. 

 

Everyone was in the kitchen with its large marble countertops and copper pots and pans hanging from racks overhead. Sean was walking over to get a potato peeler when he sneezed. He had enough warning that he could contain it within the bend of his elbow. He made it come out of his mouth so his sleeve wouldn’t be covered in snot, but that caused his nose to start running. He sniffed hard as he grabbed the peeler and set about taking the skin off a bunch of potatoes. 

His throat felt tickly but he put that down to the pot he smoked. He was still buzzed, so he felt no pang of anxiety when Charles began to tell him about some positively psychotic plan him and Hank were throwing together. 

He half listened while Charles talked animatedly—something about flying and sound waves—before the man had to rush off and take something out of the oven that was burning. 

“I’m starving,” Alex said when he came over to the sink to strain some pasta. 

Sean stepped out of the way, half-peeled potato in his hand, so Alex could have access to the basin. He was about to agree but realized he wasn’t hungry at all. Definitely weird, since he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. 

“Yeah, me too,” he finally lied.

Alex said nothing, but smiled wryly at Sean for just a moment before turning back to the pasta. Dinner was filled with the usual talk of how they were going to stop Shaw; the rest of them watched as Charles and Erik verbally sparred over it. Sean pushed the food on his china plate around with his fork, knowing he should be hungry. He took a few bites but it didn’t taste good. 

“Are you okay?” Raven asked from across the table. 

She was too pretty for him to fully meet her gaze. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he mumbled. 

That bullshit answer was perfectly acceptable when their situation was taken into consideration. Sean could see Hank was practically trembling from the desire to tell him more about this new scheme, but was resisting the urge for whatever reason. Sean didn’t feel like encouraging him at the moment. Come to think of it, his head was starting to hurt. 

After dinner, Sean went to bed early. The sheets were cool and the comforter insulated his chilly body. Before he could fall asleep, however, he was awash with an intense wave of heat that caused him to yank all the bedclothes off of him until he started shivering again. 

He woke in the morning in the same exact position he fell asleep in, composed of stiff limbs and achy muscles. It felt like the pressure inside his skull had been cranked up a few pounds per square inch, which made even blinking painful. His eyes were hot and dry in their sockets and there was a sharp pain in his throat when he swallowed. 

He got out of bed angry but mostly miserable. He was sick. Sicker than a fucking dog. 

It was a great day to stay in bed, however, there were things to do. He was walking down the hallway to the bathroom when he ran into a fully dressed and chirpy Hank. 

“Wow, you don’t look so good,” Hank said. “Are you okay?” 

“Just a cold. What’s that?” Sean asked, voice thick with sleep and night’s worth of phlegm. 

He was referring to the strange wad of striped fabric, straps, and buckles that Hank held in his hands. 

“Oh, this is what’s going to allow you to fly by utilizing your ability to make sonic sounds,” Hank said, holding up the garment. 

Yellow and black flaps of fabric made up the wings, which were attached to a five-point harness. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sean said. 

“No, it’s totally going to work,” Hank insisted. “I thought Charles talked to you about it last night. I did all the calculations and it worked out on paper. As long as you can produce enough—”

“Can we talk later? I’m half asleep,” Sean said. 

Hank’s mouth pressed into a thin hard line once he was interrupted, but he didn’t seem too mad. “That’s fine. Charles wants to try this right after breakfast, though. Are you not gonna eat?” 

“No, but I am gonna shower. I’ll be down.” 

The hot water made his muscles feel better and loosened up his sinuses, but it didn’t ease his sore throat or help his fever. He sneezed again when he got out of the shower—for some reason that always happened. Three times in a row. These were sneezes so fast that he couldn’t prepare for them. He snotted right into his hands and bit the side of his tongue on the last one. 

“Goddamnit,” he said, annoyed at all the unpleasant sensations he was experiencing. 

Everyone was cleaning up their dishes when he finally thumped downstairs. Charles stopped when he saw him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to have a bite this morning?” he asked. “Hank said you weren’t feeling well.” 

“Nah, I think I’m okay,” Sean said. 

Charles took his dishes into the kitchen and then he, Hank, and Sean went up to the second floor of the mansion. For a lack of anything better to do, Erik and everyone else followed. 

“Are you sure this will work?” Erik asked as Hank helped a reluctant Sean into the harness. A smile that Sean didn’t quite like was tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah, how is this supposed to make him fly anyway?” Raven added. 

Hank took a step back as Charles fastened the belts on the harness. He pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. “Sean can produce sonic sound waves with his voice, which create vibrations in both objects and the air. In theory, if he screams hard enough he can make vibrations strong enough to bounce off surfaces and back to these wings.”

He said all this as if it were carefully researched scientific fact. 

“In theory?” Sean blurted as he held out his arms to look at the wings. He felt so stupid.

“Any reason why they’re colored like a bumblebee?” Alex asked with a laugh. 

“That’s the fabric I had,” Hank said. “It’s a prototype.” 

“You seriously think I can fly?” Sean asked. He didn’t trust mathematics and physics—fuzzy subjects in his mind—to keep him from dying. 

Charles nodded. “Hank designs aircraft. If he can get planes to fly, he can get you to.” 

“And besides,” Hank said. “It’s more like gliding anyway. Just hold your arms out.” 

“I’m not really sure about this,” Sean said as Charles and Hank guided him to the window. 

Raven, Erik, and Alex went to an adjacent window and opened it so they could witness the supposed miracle of flight. Sean’s nose would not stop running as he sat there on the windowsill, staring down at the shrubs below. The cool fall breeze did feel good on his feverish skin, but that was a small comfort compared to the queasiness he felt in his empty stomach. 

“Hold your arms out straight, and as you fall forward scream as hard as you can,” Hank said. 

He felt like absolute shit but he couldn’t chicken out now. Not with everyone watching. It was three simple steps. He could do that, right?

“Ready?” Charles asked. 

“No,” Sean said, but held his arms out anyway. 

“You can do it, Banshee,” Alex said. 

There was the sudden feeling of the bottom of his stomach dropping out as he left the ledge. He screamed just like Hank had instructed. It wasn’t difficult, since the knowledge that he was freefalling was terrifying in itself. However, his sore throat didn’t allow him to make a noise louder than a squeak. His fall was broken by the shrubbery but it still hurt. Everyone laughing didn’t help either. 

“Are you all right?” Charles called from ten feet above. 

Sean didn’t reply, but rolled off the smashed bushes and onto the ground before moving slowly into a standing position. He was surprised to find that nothing was broken. 

“You need to scream a lot louder than that,” Hank said dryly. 

Sean walked around the mansion and went in the front door. Charles met him in the second floor hallway. Everyone else was there too, hanging back a bit. They could tell Sean wasn’t happy. 

“Are you hurt?” Charles asked. “You look very ill, my friend.”

“No, I’m just sick.” Sean’s voice was rough from the soreness and the screaming. “Not like it would have worked either way.” 

Charles laid the back of his hand across Sean’s forehead. “Don’t say that. Of course it didn’t work. You’re sick and I should have realized how that would affect your abilities,” he said. “You feel like you have quite the fever.” 

Hank came over, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m really sorry, Sean. I didn’t take that into account either,” he said as he started to help him take off the harness. 

“It’s okay. I just think I need to lay down,” Sean said with a wet sniff. 

“I was just so excited to see it work,” Hank said. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

Sean shook his head and Charles told him to go get some sleep. He didn’t need to be told twice. He’d slept for over twelve hours the night before and still felt like he needed more. Once in his room, he crashed onto the mattress and fell asleep without bothering to get under the covers. 

It was noon when Alex came to check on him. Well, Charles had told Alex to check on Sean for him. He’d also sent Alex up to Sean’s room with a tray. Sean didn’t awake immediately when Alex came into the room. It wasn’t until he set the tray down that Sean stirred and lifted his head. 

“Man, you look rough,” Alex said, an edge of sympathy in his voice.

Sean replied by rolling over with a tired little moan. 

“Hey, um, Raven wanted me to tell you that we’re sorry for laughing at you earlier,” Alex said. 

“That’s okay,” Sean said. His normally rusty voice was downright grating. 

“Charles sent me up here with some stuff,” Alex said. “Wants you to drink this tea before you go back to sleep. He made it.” 

Sean sat up in bed and his back popped in complaint. The tray Alex brought was loaded with box of kleenex, a thermometer, a delicate-looking teacup filled with some sort of steaming liquid, a little plate of crackers, a glass jar of Vick’s VapoRub, and what looked like a damp washcloth. 

“Thanks,” Sean said. “I appreciate it.” 

Alex shifted around awkwardly. “He wanted me to make sure you took your temperature and drank the tea,” he said. “But I’d be cool with just a sip, to be honest.” 

He handed Sean the thermometer first, which was an old glass tube with a drop of mercury in it. They were silent as Sean sat there with the end of the thermometer resting under his tongue, willing it to work faster. After a few minutes, the little red line managed to climb up to almost 103. 

“Christ, no wonder you feel so shitty,” Alex said. 

“Everything hurts,” Sean whined. 

“Sorry, man,” Alex said. “Drink some tea for that British guy. Might offend him or something if you don’t.” 

The tea was hot enough to feel uncomfortable on his tongue, but it was great going down his throat. Just a couple swigs and he was feeling a bit better. 

“All right, one more thing,” Alex said, coming over to the side of the bed. 

“What?” Sean asked. 

“You’ve gotta lay back for it,” Alex said. He seemed nervous. 

Sean did as he was told and Alex pulled the blankets back so Sean could be covered by them if he wanted. Alex took the jar of VapoRub off the tray and screwed the lid off. 

“My mom always used to do this for me and my brothers,” he said. “It works better when someone else does it.”

Sean smiled a little, feeling the dry skin of his chapped lips threaten to split open. “Are you serious right now?” he asked. 

“Hell yeah, I’m serious,” Alex said as he scooped out a small dab of the cloudy goo and lifted up Sean’s sweatshirt.

He rubbed the gel across Sean’s chest and put a little on his throat. The mentholated petroleum jelly, in combination with Alex’s warm hand, was soothing. He had an urge to ask Alex to stay but figured he still had training to do. 

“Thanks for that,” Sean said as Alex laid the cold washcloth across his forehead. 

“No problem, Banshee,” Alex said, standing unceremoniously. “Get some sleep, okay?” 

It took Sean a while this time, but he eventually fell into a more restful sleep and had dreams about flying, nuclear war, and Alex putting VapoRub on his chest with one hand and jerking him off with the other. 

His fever would break just in time for Charles and Erik to throw him off a satellite dish.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [Come hang out with me on Tumblr!](http://www.prozacplease.tumblr.com)
> 
> ♥ Comments are always appreciated. ♥


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